As Kyra slept, the boundaries of time dissolved. The warm milk her mother had brought her seemed to turn into a thick, suffocating fog, dragging her back to the year her world truly shattered.
It was the week after the meeting with the Brenny family. The car ride home had been deathly silent.
Her parents had traded looks that Kyra didn't understand yet—looks of relief mixed with a strange, clinical calculation.
"What do you think, John?" her mother had whispered as they pulled into the driveway.
"I think it's alright. We'll discuss the details inside," her father replied, his eyes catching Kyra's in the rearview mirror.
"Kyra, what did you think of the elder brother, Jack?"
"He's... okay," Kyra had whispered, her head bowed. She didn't have the words then to describe the greasy, predatory feeling he left on her skin.
For a week, peace reigned on the surface. But Kyra was drowning. She was flustered, her grades slipping, her nights haunted by the recurring nightmare of being placed on a gilded scale and sold by the pound.
Even Millie, her only "friend" at the time, had noticed her distraction.
"What happened, Kyra?" Millie had asked during coaching, her eyes narrowed. "Why are you so out of it?"
"Nothing... just a conflict with my mom," Kyra lied. She didn't realize then that Millie's silence wasn't kindness—it was the quiet observation of a hunter.
Then came the afternoon that changed everything.
"Kyra? Come out here. We need to have a serious talk." Her mother's voice was too bright, too sharp.
Kyra's heart thundered against her chest. Every step toward the living room felt like walking on thin ice over an infinite abyss.
She saw her parents sitting together on the sofa. Her mother patted the cushion between them with a happy smile.
"Dear Kyra," her mother said, taking her hand. Her palm was sweating. "Uncle Brenny has decided to invest in your father's business. We won't have to beg for loans anymore! Isn't that wonderful?"
"That's great, Dad," Kyra said, her voice sounding hollow to her own ears. Her father didn't look up from his newspaper; he merely gave a stiff nod.
"So," her mother continued, "we're going to thank them tomorrow. I've already called the school and the tutors. You'll stay home to get ready."
"Why do I have to go, Mom? I don't know anything about business," Kyra pleaded, a cold chill creeping up her spine.
The silence that followed was broken by her father's blunt, heavy voice. "Tomorrow will be your engagement to Jack Brenny."
The world shattered. The "transaction" was no longer a whisper; it was a sentence.
"Why?!" Kyra screamed,the emotions she had suppressed for months finally erupting. "Do you not love me? Am I just a burden you want to throw away?!"
"Don't be dramatic," her mother snapped, her "soft" persona slipping. "Jack is a good boy. This is for the family."
"It's a lie! You're joking!" Kyra yelled, her voice breaking into a sob.
"Enough!" her father roared, slamming the newspaper down. "We have raised you for fourteen years! We gave you the best we could! Now, when the family needs you to do one small thing—"
"A small thing?!" Kyra shrieked. "You're fucking selling me! Why didn't you just kill me when I was born if you couldn't afford me?!"
SLAP.
The sound echoed through the house. Kyra's head snapped to the side, her cheek burning. Her mother stood over her, breathing heavily.
"Don't be so selfish!" her mother cried, her voice thick with manipulative tears. "Look at this house! Look at Lumina and Ava! If your father's business fails, we'll be on the streets. Do you want your little sisters to starve? Can we sacrifice them just for your pride?"
Kyra fell to her knees, begging, her voice a raw rasp. "Mom, I'll study harder! I'll get a job! I'll eat less, I won't ask for anything, just please... don't marry me off!"
She crawled to her father, clutching his hand. "Dad... you always said I was your pride. Please... don't do this."
Her father looked at her, his eyes cold and distant. "Kyra, it's just an engagement. If I find another way to raise the money, we won't force the marriage. But for now, this is what has to happen. They'll let you keep studying. It's just... shifting from one house to another."
The word "puppet" didn't even begin to describe the hollowness Kyra felt as her mother led her back to her room.
05:15 AM
Kyra bolted upright in bed, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Her pillow was damp with tears that had fallen in her sleep. She grabbed the water glass on her nightstand, her hands trembling so hard the water splashed her chin.
The nightmare was years old, yet it felt like a fresh wound.
As she stood up and went to washroom, as she looked at her reflection in the mirror—her eyes were swollen, red-rimmed and the dried tear marks around her cheeks.
She opened tap and splashed cold water on her face, patting her skin until it turned a faint pink.
"Have a good day, Kyra," she whispered to her reflection, forcing the doll-smile into place. "You've got this."
She checked her phone. A message from the café group chat caught her eye: Results at 10:00 AM. Be on time.
Kyra felt a surge of adrenaline. If she won, the $2,000 bonus would be hers. She could pay Millie the $1,200 she owed and finally breathe for a few days.
She quickly typed a message to Lucifer: "Good morning, dear."
She didn't wait for a reply as she put back the mobile on her pocket.
As She grabbed her bag and headed for the library to kill time, her mind a frantic calculator of debts and survival.
When Kyra entered the café, the tension was palpable. She spotted Sam and Ashley near the counter.
"You're early, Kyra," Sam said, not looking up from his ledgers.
"Is it the results? Are you nervous?" Ashley chirped, bouncing over and throwing an arm around Kyra's neck.
Kyra stumbled, her bruised shoulder flinching, but she managed to stabilize herself.
"A little," Kyra admitted.
"Oh, don't worry! And hey, are you ready for the new semester? My dad got me a new designer bag—I'll show you at school tomorrow!" Ashley's endless, cheerful chatter was the only thing keeping Kyra's nerves from snapping.
At 10:00 AM, Mrs. Morgan stepped onto the small wooden dais, flanked by Charles Bennet.
The other contestants stood in a line, their faces masks of anxiety.
"The winner of the 'Legendary Artisan' selection," Mrs. Morgan announced, her eyes beaming, "is Serein, for 'The Heart of Darkness'."
A wave of relief washed over Kyra. She stepped forward in her burgundy dress and Panda mask, her movements graceful and noble.
As she took the prize from Charles, he gave her a polite and gentle smile.
"Congratulations," he said, his voice dropping to a polite but intimate tone.
"Thank you," Kyra replied, her voice muffled by the mask.
"However," Charles continued, taking the microphone to address the room. "The journey isn't over. This was only the first city. In two months, the top five from this city, led by Serein, will travel to the Capital for the Grand Finals. There is a mysterious, high-level award for the winner that we cannot yet disclose."
The room erupted in whispers. The Capital? Kyra's heart sank. She couldn't go to the Capital—as no one knows she is Serein and there is no excuse for her parents.
Kyra hurried backstage to change, but before she could reach the dressing room, a hand caught her arm. It was Charles.
"Miss Serein," he said, giving her a helpless, apologetic smile. "My grandfather saw the video of your work yesterday. He's... a bit of a fanatic. He wants to meet you. Would you be interested in coming to the Capital with me? Your talent shouldn't be suppressed in a place like this."
Kyra stiffened. The rejection was instant. "No. Thank you, Mr. Bennet, but I have no wish to go to the Capital."
Charles's eyes darkened—a flash of the "Prince's" true power—but he quickly regained his gentle mask. "I understand. But please, take my card. I'm here for five days. If you change your mind, contact me."
Kyra took the card, her fingers cold, and fled. She felt like a beast was chasing her. She ignored Ashley's confused calls and ran back toward the library, her heart hammering.
Ding. Her phone vibrated. [Account credited: $2,500].
A message from Mrs. Morgan followed: "Well done, Kyra. Here is your bonus. Because of you, Mr. Bennet has confirmed a massive investment in our café."
Kyra slumped onto a park bench, the weight in her chest easing slightly. The money was there. She was safe for another week. She could keep Millie away.
But then, her phone began to vibrate again. The screen didn't show a text. It was a call.
The name on the screen made the blood freeze in her veins.
LUCIFER.
Kyra's hand shook so violently she almost dropped the phone.
And thought for the reason as mostly he never called unless necessary,only messaged.